Addicted to Lust

by Amy Tasukada

  “I’ve made several projections.” Masuo held out the first paper to back up his claims. “If you look here, you can see—”

  Hayato cleared his throat. “Part of this is my fault.”

  Endo stubbed out her cigarette. “Really? How?”

  “I never took the time to show Masuo the ropes.”

  Masuo’s heart dropped to his gut. He hadn’t asked Hayato to do anything to help. Maybe he meant well, but it only caused the storm within Masuo to rage. He wanted to save himself, not be rescued.

  Endo tapped her nails on the desk. “Maybe they did things differently in Yamashina, but here I expect my men to do their jobs.”

  “It’s not a good excuse, but it is what it is.”

  How dare Hayato try to say Masuo was so incompetent he couldn’t run a business without Hayato walking him through it.

  “You think because you survived an attack you’ll have it easy for the rest of your time with the family? I think not.” Endo crossed her arms. “You need to get your act together. The Korean mafia isn’t done with us. Everyone knows that. Where do you think the pachinko money goes? Clearly you need to spend some more time training the managers.” Endo looked at Masuo. “What time do you open?”

  “Ten.”

  “For the next week, Hayato will be with you from open to close. That’ll give him enough time to show you how to run a parlor. No more mistakes for a week, and you can keep the parlor.” She glanced back to Hayato. “After that week, you’ll do the same for every single parlor in the ward.”

  Hayato nodded. “I understand.”

  Endo snapped her fingers to get Masuo’s attention. “You’ve got a week to straighten up your parlor or else it’s going to someone else. Get to work.”

  Masuo left, and Hayato followed. He yammered on about something, but Masuo couldn’t quiet his rage. Once they got out of sight of any of the windows, Masuo threw his collection of papers in front of Hayato.

  “I was supposed to earn my stay at the parlor, not have you admit you showed me nothing!” The release of the bitter words felt sweet to Masuo. “I could’ve handled myself in there. I didn’t need your help.”

  Hayato pressed his lips together, finally shutting up for once. “But it’s true. I didn’t train you like I was supposed to, so it’s my fault. I wanted to take the blame because I knew she’d give me a second chance. You? I’m not so sure.”

  “You can be such a self-absorbed dick.”

  “This month is hard for me.”

  “What’s your excuse for the other eleven? You can’t be the biggest jerk in the world one month and a saint the rest.”

  “Masuo…”

  “I don’t need your help. I need to earn the right to keep the parlor on my own.”

  Masuo ran away before Hayato could say anything else because he didn’t want to hear it. Whatever excuse Hayato would conjure would only distract Masuo from doing his job.

  25

  Hayato slept more at the manga café than he ever had at his apartment. He might as well call the space with the drop ceiling with the mysterious stains home.

  He popped his shoulder, hoping it would help his aching muscles. It didn’t. He sighed and let the manga drop from his hands. He’d screwed things up with Masuo—again—and now they’d be stuck together in the world’s smallest pachinko parlor for twelve hours a day every day for a week.

  How could Hayato have been so careless? Masuo had started to fight for his parlor by presenting evidence of his managerial skills, and Hayato had opened his big mouth. It was like he’d never paid attention to Masuo. Of course Masuo wanted to earn the right to keep his parlor. Hayato should have kept his big mouth closed. He should’ve waited and allowed Masuo to try before sweeping in and solving the problem.

  Hayato’s alarm sounded, signaling he needed to get to the parlor. He heaved himself up from the beanbag, but his foot cramped. He reached out and braced himself against one of the flimsy temporary walls, but his foot caught underneath the beanbag.

  “Fuck!”

  The beanbag flipped. The tape holding a ripped seam tore open. Millions of tiny Styrofoam balls exploded out like blood gushing from a cut to the jugular. The balls coordinated their attack on Hayato. They stuck to everything. Hayato’s suit, jacket, face. He tried to brush them off, but then they only stuck to more places.

  He looked like an idiot pretending to be a snowman. He left the room and the manga café, shedding a few of the balls with each step, but with so many clinging to him, it was hardly noticeable.

  People who dared to get too close to Hayato on the train left with a few balls stuck to them. Hayato had set his alarm early, since he’d figured Masuo would get to the parlor early, but the door was locked when Hayato arrived.

  Hayato paced as he waited, imagining all the different scenarios for his morning with Masuo. Maybe he’d forgive Hayato and realize he’d only meant to help, or maybe he’d refuse to even let Hayato in.

  Hayato turned and spotted Masuo coming down the street, his arms crossed.

  “What are you doing here?” Masuo’s tone was more bitter than an unripe persimmon.

  “I have to follow Endo’s orders.”

  “Weren’t you the one who told me I exceeded all your expectations? What could you show me that I don’t already know?”

  Hayato bit his lip. It was true.

  “Think of me as an extra hand. You can practice for when you get an extra worker once your parlor makes bank.” Hayato winked, but Masuo rolled his eyes, annoyed.

  He opened the gate and headed to his office. Hayato followed.

  “What do I need to do first?” Hayato leaned against the doorframe. “You’re the boss. Order me around. Your wish is my command.”

  Masuo didn’t speak, but his shoulders stiffened with Hayato’s words. Their gazes met for a second.

  Then Masuo pulled out a thick envelope from his pocket and pushed it toward Hayato. “This is for you.”

  Hayato snatched the envelope and opened it. “What’s all this cash for?”

  “It’s for the machines. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

  The words stung. Hayato opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  Masuo ripped out a page from his notebook. “And here’s everything I want you to do before we open. We need to rush, since I had to close early for the meeting yesterday.”

  “Where did you even get all this money?” Hayato said.

  “My savings. The rest I borrowed from Arashi.”

  “Wait. Let’s talk about this.”

  “Hurry up and get to the list.”

  How was Hayato supposed to fix their relationship if Masuo was stubbornly refusing to talk? Hayato ground his teeth together and swallowed the urge to rip Masuo’s list into tiny pieces to match the Styrofoam balls still stuck to his coat.

  Subaru had said relationships took work. And while saying “fuck it” to Masuo would’ve been easy, when Hayato thought about his future, he envisioned Masuo by his side. Hayato counted the money and took out a few extra notes.

  “You gave me too much.” Hayato put the extra few bills aside.

  “It’s the interest.”

  Hayato pressed a hand over his chest as if trying to stop the bleeding. His heart pounded like he was back in the safe house, the Korean mob climbing up the stairs, but instead of fighting for his life, Hayato was fighting for Masuo.

  “You’re right,” Hayato said. “I can be a jerk and self-absorbed and an asshole.”

  “I never called you an asshole.”

  “Well, it’s true. You’ve always been honest with me, and I’ve…” Hayato bit his bottom lip. “I’ve been holding something back that you should’ve known a while ago.”

  Masuo leaned in his squeaky office chair. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

  “I have monophobia. I’ve had it since I was young. Since that day.” Hayato took a breath, searching Masuo’s face for any sign of hope, but he only tilted his head. “I’m afraid to b
e alone. It was years before I noticed, and it’s gotten worse over time. When I’m alone, my throat starts to close. I can’t breathe. My thoughts race thinking about my mother. She had been fine before we’d left for school, and she wouldn’t have done it if we were there. My thoughts jump, and I can’t separate myself from her. What’s stopping me from doing the same thing?”

  “Hayato…”

  “I promise this is going somewhere.”

  “We’ll have people in here in twenty minutes.”

  “Please.” Hayato’s voice shook with desperation. “It’s important to me that you know.”

  Masuo sighed. “Make it quick.”

  “When you said I was self-absorbed, I was confused. How could I be self-absorbed when I’m constantly thinking about how to keep people around me? But now I see. I only worried about myself. I’m not perfect, far from it, but I’m trying to be better. You’re the reason I’m trying to be better. Maybe if we work together, we can help each other.” Hayato closed his eyes, fearing the worst. “I want you to be the best pachinko parlor manager, the best businessman, the best Masuo you can be. Maybe it’s selfish again to want to be the one to help you, but I’m here.”

  “Okay.”

  Hayato bit his lip. “And I’m sorry for blowing up when you said I couldn’t move in. It’s fine that you want to wait to be married before you move in with someone. I might not get it, but I’ll honor your wishes and not bring it up again.”

  A small smile crept onto Masuo’s face. It wasn’t the big overjoyed reaction Hayato had fantasized about, but it was progress.

  “So I’ll just get to the things on the list.” Hayato reached out to take the paper, but Masuo pulled it out of his reach.

  “And maybe it was wrong to get so upset when you were only helping.”

  Hayato nodded. “You more than earned your spot as parlor manager. It’s probably going to be years before Endo says it. I’ve been in this ward for months, and you saw how she treated me.”

  “And you’re basically a war hero.”

  “That’s a good joke.”

  Masuo pointed to Hayato’s sleeve of white balls. “Now, why do you look like a crazy person?”

  Hayato pressed his lips together. “There was an accident. It’s nothing to worry about.”

  “The customers won’t appreciate you looking like you got into a fight with a shipping box. Get over here.” Masuo dug through the drawer and pulled out a lint brush.

  “I thought Mochi’s cat hair was a reminder of your sweet kitty,” Hayato said, hoping the joke landed.

  Masuo cracked a smile and handed Hayato the brush. “She doesn’t need to be with me everywhere.”

  Hayato rolled up the balls on the sticky sheet. It took five passes, one for each limb and one for his body. He exchanged the brush for the list and headed out.

  “Wait,” Masuo laughed. “It’s all over your back.”

  He grabbed Hayato’s elbow and turned him around so he could get the back of his jacket.

  “Thanks,” Hayato said.

  Masuo cleared his throat. “We had our first fight.”

  “If we don’t count the little fight over the fantasy list, then it was the first one.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” Masuo turned to face Hayato. “You know, I like to make lists and keep to the plans I’ve envisioned.”

  Hayato held up the list in his hand. “Very detailed lists.”

  “Well, number one on my ‘how to maintain a healthy relationship after a fight’ list is to kiss and make up.”

  “Hmm…I don’t see that on my list.”

  Masuo laughed.

  Hayato grabbed a pen off the desk and began to write “kiss and make up” across the top of the list he held, but Masuo wouldn’t let him finish. He pulled Hayato into a warm embrace and kissed him. It was the kind of kiss that smoothed away any worries or lingering doubts that they wouldn’t last. They’d make it together, and Hayato would do whatever he could to make Masuo’s parlor a success.

  26

  Masuo sat behind the prize counter. The parlor closed in half an hour, and the only people there were he and Hayato. So of course Hayato strolled over with a mischievous grin.

  “Want to catch a movie after I get off?” Hayato asked.

  Masuo shrugged. “I think we’ve seen everything that’s out already.”

  “Then I’m sure we can find something fun to do.”

  “Maybe we can go once we catch the cheater. It can be a reward.”

  “The cheater hasn’t shown their face in six days. Your profits have been so good that Endo’s going to let you keep the parlor. Isn’t that enough to celebrate?”

  “I’d feel better telling Endo I caught the bastard.”

  Hayato’s chipper attitude the past week had lifted Masuo’s spirits, but even with the bigger profits, knowing the cheater had gotten off without punishment pissed him off. The cheater deserved to get caught.

  “Hey now, what’s with that face? Do I need to drag you to the back and cheer you up?”

  Masuo cracked a smile. “I’m fine.”

  “If you change your mind, I get off in half an hour.” Hayato winked.

  A man stumbled into the parlor. He must’ve recently finished a drunken meal with his coworkers. He fumbled with his wallet before exchanging his cash for a tub of balls and hit one of the machines.

  “Hopefully this one doesn’t puke,” Hayato mumbled.

  “Go by the entry. I don’t like the look of this,” Masuo said, though he didn’t like the look of most of the customers.

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  By the time Hayato meandered to the other side of the parlor, the customer had hit his first jackpot. The machine got louder, the lights flashed, and the next boobtastic villain popped up on the LCD screen for the vampire hunter to defeat. Masuo narrowed his eyes. It was possible to get lucky, but it had still been a fast win.

  Hayato tried to look busy cleaning the machines while he watched the man. The machine got louder again, thumping out the next level of double payout as Booberella got impaled by a very suggestive spear. The guy reached into his pocket and tapped out a cigarette like a double jackpot was nothing.

  The man played the machine like an instrument, but even under Masuo’s scrutiny, he couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.

  Hayato finished cleaning the row of machines, then squatted to clean the front of the display case.

  “I think the guy has a wire or something,” Hayato said, not looking up at Masuo. “He’s already hit two jackpots, and the new machines are set to have slower payouts.”

  Masuo pulled out a piece of paper. “Let’s list all the possible next steps, then we can make a plan.”

  “Part of being a good yakuza is trusting your gut. Like with the yakuza who rescued you from the elevator. I’m sure it wasn’t on his to-do list, but did he think twice about saving you? No. This guy is probably cheating, so we should kick his ass.”

  The grid lines of the paper called to Masuo to fill them with a detailed list of plans, but Hayato had a point. Sometimes lists got in the way and didn’t help. Masuo had had a detailed plan for how to save his parlor, one that Endo would’ve most likely rejected, but Hayato had used his gut and stepped in to help.

  Masuo pushed the paper aside. “Go clean the other row of machines. Get ahead of him. Then, when I nod my head, I’ll reach for him from the back, and you get him from the front. If we confront him on both sides, he’ll probably go quietly.”

  Hayato smiled and went back to cleaning. Masuo’s foot bounced at the edge of his stool before Hayato shot him a cut-it-out look that caught Masuo’s breath. He couldn’t give off any hint that he suspected the guy was a cheating bastard.

  Masuo organized the already pristine prize collection while he waited for Hayato to make his way to clean the machines on the other side of the cheater. Masuo nodded, and they both leisurely shuffled toward the man.

  Hayato took an empty ball tub and passed
them to the cheater. “Here’s another one for you, sir.”

  While the man was distracted, Masuo grabbed his arm. A thin, almost invisible wire came out of his sleeve. The man used all his weight to shove Masuo to the ground, then tripped Hayato flat on his ass. The cheater ran out. All the stumbling about like a drunkard gone. It had all been an act.

  “I’ll lock up and then catch up with you,” Hayato said.

  Masuo jumped to his feet and gave chase. The cheater zigzagged this way and that, knocking over signboards and store displays as he went.

  Masuo’s heart pounded in his ears. He could see the fate of the parlor resting before him. He wouldn’t let victory slip away.

  Hayato caught up to them, and having him close gave Masuo a second burst of adrenaline.

  The cheater ran into a hotel.

  “I’ll follow him inside. You see if he heads out a back entrance,” Masuo said more on instinct than working from any thought-out plan.

  Hayato split off, while Masuo remained on the cheater’s heels.

  The after-dinner crowd congregated outside the hotel’s restaurant, but they scattered as the cheater cut through them, leaving a path for Masuo to follow. The man headed toward the back and to a large set of windows and doors. A small nook held a pay phone, while the open nook next to it held a decorative plant.

  Hayato emerged in front of the door, blocking the man’s exit. He doubled back and dove inside the small paneled room.

  A wicked grin crossed Masuo’s face. They had the bastard cornered.

  “I wasn’t doing anything,” the cheater pleaded.

  Masuo pulled back his fist, aiming to land a jab square on the bastard’s jaw.

  Ding.

  Everything turned white, and horror struck Masuo like a ball tossed about in the pins of a pachinko machine. He held his breath and glanced over his shoulder. A set of paneled doors closed tight, and the room gave the distinct lurch of an elevator springing to life.

  “Fuck.”

  The air left his lungs, and Masuo’s legs went weak. He was trapped in an elevator and couldn’t escape.